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02 Temmuz 2022, 13:40
Jemma was a little early. It was one of her rules. Dates weren't easy to come by in her position and limited experience had taught her not to bring along a carer. Reminding people of her utter dependence on outside help usually didn't leave a brilliant first impression.She smiled at a tall man, who was stood in the doorframe, wearing a vest and a bow-tie. Successfully having made eye-contact with the host, Jemma mouthed the words:'Just waiting for someone.'The man saw the manual wheelchair and appeared concerned for only a second. He looked around briefly, then nodded discreetly and turned to greet a group of guests.Recently, Jemma had spent a lot of time sitting and waiting, listening and watching, taking in all that she could. A rigid plastic brace kept her head fixed and only moving her eyes provided at least some variety when it came to her line of sight. Often she would hear a conversation, yet be unable to turn to see the speakers' faces; instead she would always imagine them and if she saw people so far away that she could not hear them, she would make up their conversations, sometimes whole life stories, sometimes wonder what they liked to eat, what they looked like naked or whether or not she'd be taller than them, were she only able to stand.She looked down, her limp arms just about visible in the corners of her eyes. It wasn't too bad, she thought. A little sweat glistened around the splints that secured her hands and fingers and she could feel a small collection of droplets on her forehead as well, tickling her brow as they trickled down across her face. Jemma had gotten very good at ignoring these things; there was nothing she could do about after all.A pretty woman stepped out of a cab. She was different from the picture Jemma had seen online, but not in a bad way, not in a wholly unexpected way. The woman was quite short, and though slim, didn't seem at all athletic. In fact, Jemma wondered not for the first time, if she hadn't once been anorexic. The woman didn't have to look around very long to identify Jemma, and she approached with a bright smile.The long, dyed red hair from the photos was gone, replaced by shorter hair, a side cut and an equally bright, green hue. Where there had been a single, silver stud just above one eyebrow, there was now a metallic spike, just small enough not to seem frightening. It was joined by a septum in her nose and three silvery rings in one of the earlobes. Jemma raised her eyebrows, marveling at the little collection.The woman noticed her look and laughed.'Too much?' she asked as soon as she had reached Jemma's chair. 'Nice to meet you in person, Jemma.''Nice to meet you too, etlik escort (http://kadinguzelligi.com/ad-category/etlik-escort/) Hope,' Jemma said. 'You look great.'She wasn't lying; Hope's little black dress was only just saved from being unacceptably daring by her nigh-complete lack of curves, it was short and tight, and provided a stark contrast for her colourful hair.'So do you.'She placed a hand on top of Jemma's.'Ready?''Starving,' replied Jemma.They paused.'Do you want me to...?' began Hope and ineptly mimed pushing.'If you wouldn't mind,' Jemma had hoped to sound a little less embarrassed and heat rose in her cheeks.Hope walked round the chair.'See the red pedal?' Jemma asked.'Yeah.''That's the brake. Push it all the way down and it should snap back up.''Got it.'There was some fumbling and rocking, then came a clicking noise and movement. Jemma had rolled forwards a couple of centimeters before being stopping abruptly. Hope presumably had gotten ahold of the handles.'Oops,' said Hope. 'You all right?''Sure.'Jemma clenched her jaw. This sort of thing had happened hundreds of times already; nevertheless, her heart-rate had skyrocket for a few, panicky seconds. She calmed herself with a series of deep breaths.Hope pushed the chair along, towards the entrance. Luckily, the line wasn't too long. Though the host appeared unphased on the outside, his stare lingered on Hope just a little bit longer than necessary. Jemma was almost certain that he would have mentioned Hope's eccentric appearance, were she not with a spastic. As it was, he dutifully checked their reservation, and indicated their table politely, even asking if they required any assistance. Jemma declined.She knew she was imposing on Hope, but the young woman had agreed to the whole thing after all. The table was set for two. Jemma liked the effect of the single candle in the otherwise rather sparsely lit restaurant; it was quite romantic in a kitschy sort of way. She told Hope to remove one of the chairs, just to put it to the side. A waiter would come and get it, she knew from experience. Hope positioned the wheelchair opposite her own chair. Only when Hope was about to return to her seat, Jemma reminded her to apply the brake again. She knew that was silly, but Jemma preferred to talk about these things as little as possible. In the beginning, this usually tended to cause more confusion.Flustered and red in the face, Hope finally sat down. The table was small enough for even her to reach across easily, which was quite important for an evening out with Jemma. For a few seconds they were in danger of descending into awkward silence, but a waiter interrupted their pause.Waiters were keçiören escort (http://kadinguzelligi.com/ad-category/kecioren-escort/) very fast around Jemma. It was an interesting wheelchair perk, which had everything to do with recurring news stories about the poor, poor disabled, suffering immensely waiting for proper service.First date anxiety ordered a bottle of the house red for the girls; the rest seemed trivial. Somewhere in the back of Jemma's mind, a connection was made between Cabernet Sauvignon and beef or lamb, though admittedly, Hope gave off every impression of not caring about that sort of thing in the slightest.Like with most, there were many disadvantages to Jemma's disability; one of the less obvious ones was her distinct inability to reach an intoxicated state discreetly. Hope was the one who fed her and every bite, every sip was hers to provide. After asking before every single bite at first, they quickly, organically settled into a rhythm: one forkful for Hope, one for Jemma, followed by a drink, rinse and repeat.Unsurprisingly, Jemma's posture remained unchanged throughout the evening. She could, however, observe a small transformation unfolding before her eyes, saw Hope's shoulders beginning to slump, her nose beginning to redden, and her smile slowly broadening. Her nervous energy turned into an oddly touchy warmth, to the point that she seemed incapable of speaking without placing at least one hand somewhere on Jemma's body.'You can ask, you know. If you want to,' Jemma said.After some prompting, Hope had finished telling a story about joining a gymnastics team in her youth. Jemma liked asking people about sports on first dates. It gave her an opportunity to get the whole chair-conversation out of the way, at least it did if the other person dared to venture forth into the unknown. If not, Jemma could always help out a little.Hope laughed, a good sign in Jemma's eyes. She inhaled deeply and forced herself to look serious for a moment.'Ask you about sports?' Hope said.Jemma grinned.'If you like.''Did you ever do any?''Yes.''So you weren't, you know, born like this?''No.''Do you want to tell me what happened?'There was a pause.'I'd really like you to tell me,' Hope said before Jemma could answer.'O-okay,' Jemma was surprised to hear her voice tremble, usually, this was her time to show confidence, to be less awkward than her date.'I wasn't born like this, but my disease, it's genetic, so I've always had it. It's my muscles, and not all of them either, they're sort of developing backwards, getting weaker. It started when I was four in my left foot, and sort of spread from there.'Hope placed a hand over Jemma's.'So you could kızılay escort (http://kadinguzelligi.com/ad-category/kizilay-escort/) walk?' she said brightly.'Um, yeah, yeah I could, till I was like a teenager actually, though with crutches by then.'Jemma was quite taken aback by Hope's demeanor, it was quite different from most people's.'I used a wheelchair afterwards, but I could still move my arms and most of my upper body all the way through uni, although by the end I was very weak, I couldn't push my chair, but I could write and type and eat.'She paused again.With her other hand, Hope was stroking Jemma's cheek now, tracing her jawline with a pale, delicate finger.'Your eyes are amazing,' Hope said. 'They're so green, it's ridiculous, like looking at the sun through a pair of emeralds.''Two years ago, I couldn't lift my arms anymore,' Jemma continued. 'After that, it was less than a week before I couldn't move my fingers or even hold up my head by myself.'Hope gently pressed Jemma's hand beneath the splint. Tears glistened in Jemma's eyes. Hope leaned forwards and kissed her cheek, her soft lips brushing Jemma's skin lightly for a tiny, fleeting moment. Jemma swallowed.'It won't get worse,' she said in a small voice. 'Not anytime soon, the doctors say.''That's good,' Hope wiped away a single tear from Jemma's face.'Sorry,' said Jemma. 'I'm not usually like this, I don't know what's going...'She stopped when Hope held up a hand.The buzzing of the background chatter suddenly filled Jemma's consciousness along with the clinking of cutlery and muffled footsteps on carpeted floors.Hope bit her lips, then blinked as though giving Jemma a coded signal, as though inviting her to join in with some secret plan, which only they knew.The two of them changed the subject then and it didn't come up again. Jemma breathed easier. Her lamb was excellent, though she would have preferred a much smaller portion. Unlike Hope, Jemma at least finished hers, though frankly, there was quite possibly not enough room in Hope's flat belly for the entirety of her goulash.She was easy to talk to and easier still to get talking and not until they had long since finished their meal, did another hurdle present itself. The bottle was nearly empty, a little more than half of its content having disappeared into Hope, who had to be about two percent aged, full-bodied vino by now. The hurdle Jemma saw wasn't a chair-one as much as it was a girl-one. She had been on boy-girl dates as well as on girl-girl dates and if there was any protocol on who should pay, it hadn't been shared with either Jemma or any of her dates.Jemma had suggested the restaurant; good point to start, but it had been Hope who'd made the first move, both through digital communication and through physical contact just before. Of course, Jemma was somewhat excused in that department, indeed most people paid for her without thinking, even if the situation wouldn't necessarily call for it.'Aww,' said Hope with an impish smile.